For the Greater Good
by DazzlingMagicFox
Summary: [Sealed Fate rewrite] Zorc's sealing came with a price. Upon death, the Pharaoh's soul will be imprisoned in the Puzzle. Together with his surviving Priests, he must live his life and heal Egypt's wounds from the attack. But will he live long enough? Invaders are making their move.
1. Chapter 1

_**Important disclaimers:  
**_ _ **+This fanfiction is for entertainment purposes only. It is never official. I do not claim ownership over Yu-Gi-Oh! and anything else that's not mine.**_ _Yu-Gi-Oh! belongs to its rightful owner; and all other products, company names, brand names, and trademarks belong to their respective owners. I am not associated with the respective owners in any way. I express my deep gratitude to the respective owners for creating things that inspired me to write._

 _ **+This story is fiction. It's not real. Similarities to real life are purely coincidental.  
Since this story is fiction, anything that exists/can be thought of/etc. is possible in this story. **__These include serious/controversial issues that aren't meant to be belittled in reality, inaccuracy/manipulation of facts/history/canon, and many things that shouldn't/couldn't be applied in real-life (violence and other evil things, impossible stuff, etc.) Use of such things in this fiction does not necessarily mean I belittle/approve/apply such things in real life._ _ **Keep in mind that there is a line between fiction and reality. There are things in fiction that aren't meant for reality!**_

 _ **+My opinions/ideas/preferences are present in this fiction but they do not necessarily represent the opinions/ideas/preferences of this website, other fans, other websites, groups, etc.**_

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I may cite sources for the professional information, but I do not own any source I may cite nor do I represent it (unless clearly stated otherwise.) I cannot control its contents (unless clearly stated otherwise) and I cannot guarantee its validity._

 _ **+This fanfic may be subject to editing at any given time.**_ _If that will happen, I'll announce it either within this fanfic or in my profile (under 'POSTS')_

 _ **Please do not hold me responsible for whatever consequence that may occur should you disregard my fic's disclaimers and warnings/alerts**_ _. You have been warned._

…

 _ **STORY WARNINGS/ALERTS:**_ _Violence, Dark themes, morbidity, character death/s, torture,_ _possible inaccuracy/manipulation of facts/history/canon, unrealistic stuff, and other fictional elements that make this story fiction. If you don't like such things, then obviously this story isn't for you.  
_ _ **CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS/ALERTS:** Wordy angst. **  
USUAL REPRESENTATIONS:**_ *see notes at the bottom of the page;"Dialogue"; _thoughts/emphasis/foreign terms/flashback/etc…/_ 'etc…'

* * *

 **Chapter 1  
The Promise**

 _1261 B.C. – New Kingdom_

A lone figure was walking along the riverbank, not paying heed to the eerie lonesomeness brought about by the night. He was following the Great River, not even slowing nor speeding his candid pace. His footsteps made no sound. From afar, it seemed as though he was gliding. With his cloak flared by the wind, he resembled a lost soul wandering the night.

A smirk adorned his lips as the sound of roaring water grew stronger. A mighty waterfall came into view. The very sight of it made him smirk. He finally arrived at his destination – Kush*.

He moved forward, his pace faster than before, gliding past some exhausted people about to retire for the night, clay houses that illuminated the darkness, and numerous stalls that were bare, the merchants having retired for the night.

In the midst of the soon-to-be sleeping province, a large palace stood. It wasn't as grand as that of the Capital's, but it still stood out among its surrounding structures.

"Halt! Who goes there?!"

The figure stopped in front of the palace gates as the two guards took a defensive stance, ready to strike should he be a threat. Not phased in the slightest, he simply pulled down his hood. The guards, upon seeing the teal-green mane and amber-emerald heterochromatic* eyes, bowed low. "Forgive our insolence, Master Dartz," one of the guards—the one who had addressed his presence—nearly stammered.

The man identified as Dartz simply waved the apology aside and wordlessly entered the palace when the gates were opened. Once he passed through the gardens, a servant intercepted him before he could enter the palace hall.

"My Lord," the young servant greeted, bowing at the waist. "The _King's Son of Kush_ * awaits you," she stated without breaking her stance. "I have been ordered to bring you to his quarters upon your arrival. Please follow me." She straightened up and led the way.

They entered the hall, ascending the stairs located on the other side. The silent journey came to an end when they reached an arch flanked by two heavily built guards. Each had a spear they held in a way that barred the path. The servant bowed to her charge before leaving.

"Master Dartz has arrived, my lord," one of the guards announced. There was a moment of silence before a gruff voice replied,

"Let him enter."

The guards uncrossed their spears in practiced unison, crossing it once again when the visitor had entered the chamber. A giggle drew his attention to the bed. Two scantily dressed women were sprawled across the cotton, their ministrations interrupted by his presence.

A man was seated upon a gold-plated chair, his back turned to Dartz and an arm extended—the hand leisurely holding a golden goblet. "Leave us," the same gruff voice ordered. The women, knowing what awaited them should they hesitate, immediately exited the room. Once the two men were alone,

"Any news from Waset*?" the man asked before taking a sip from the goblet.

Dartz straightened up, a little irritated by the Viceroy's nonchalant demeanor. "The Pharaoh has purged the demon that threatened Kemet," he announced.

The man finally stood up and turned to face Dartz. The latter could tell that he was containing his fury. "I already know that," he sneered. His violet eyes peered studiously at the visitor when he added, "It's difficult to miss the explosion of light and the disappearance of that massive beast a few hours* ago." Gesturing to Dartz, he made his way towards the balcony behind him. "The devastation must be immense," he mused aloud. His cream-colored cloak and platinum-blonde, spiky hair danced with the cool night breeze as he surveyed the distance. The black shenti* he wore did nothing to protect him from the cold, yet not a shiver racked his form as the cold air assaulted him.

"I could see the fire and smoke from here, and that demon towering over the carnage," he continued after taking another swig from the goblet. Gazing at the meagre contents, his grip on it tightened. "If that is the only news you have for me, then you've wasted both of our time." The goblet was thrown to the floor, its contents spilling to the ground while the metal landed with a clatter. He turned to the man behind him. "And you know how I _dislike_ having my time wasted," he snarled menacingly.

Dartz was not phased in the slightest, despite knowing what the man was capable of. The Viceroy was famous for his ruthlessness, brutality, and his gifted skills in causing pain. He was known throughout the kingdom as the King of Pain—a title he was very much proud of.

The King's Son of Kush was a man feared by many.

"Then you should know that _now_ is the perfect time to strike," Dartz replied smoothly as he approached and stopped beside the Viceroy. "Though the Pharaoh has defeated the demon, the battle has weakened him and reduced the Capital to shambles."

"I know." A smile formed on the Viceroy's lips before he chuckled deviously. The chuckle evolved into maniacal laughter that echoed into the night. "By Ra! The signs have never been clearer!" he declared, arms raised before he turned to Dartz. "After three years of his pathetic rule, the Gods have finally deemed that brat unworthy of the throne!" He laughed again.

Watching the Viceroy bask in his moment of glory, Dartz smirked. The man was so feared by his subjects, he could get away with blasphemy against the Pharaoh. He would be of great use to his cause. "I hope you have not forgotten our agreement," he reminded when the man calmed down.

The Viceroy nodded. He turned around and leaned his back on the balcony railing. "I haven't," he said knowingly before returning to his chambers. He addressed the guards beyond his room, "Tell the men to begin the preparations for battle." He smirked. "It's time for a new Pharaoh to take the throne."

…

"My Pharaoh, please rest yourself. You've been weakened from the battle."

The Pharaoh, realizing that further movement was causing him more pain, finally stopped trying to rise from his bed. He took a deep breath, wincing as his wounds began to sting from the salve Isis was using. He gripped his chest. The area still throbbed mercilessly after he performed the ultimate sacrifice.

The ritual was performed a night prior, engulfing the demon in a light so bright it looked like Ra decided to rise in the middle of the night. The demon had been sealed inside the Millennium Puzzle, but not without a heavy cost.

The ritual required a soul of equal, if not greater, power—one of purity and light. He didn't hesitate to offer his own soul when they realized it was more than qualified, much to his subjects' horror.

The sacrifice had been made. His fate had been sealed,

And his subjects still refused to accept it.

"There has to be another way to contain the demon!"

The Pharaoh sighed and braced himself for another argument. Priest Seto had finally stopped pacing outside and finally graced them with his presence. "There is none, Seto," the Pharaoh stated. "You need not fret. It is a sacrifice that I am willing to make."

"But it is too cruel a sacrifice," Seto argued. Realizing his aggressive tone, he bowed his head. "Forgive my insolence, Pharaoh."

The Pharaoh waved it aside. "It is a sacrifice that will save this kingdom," he said confidently. "As Pharaoh, it is my duty to do everything in my power to protect Kemet." He looked Seto in the eye. "Even if it means denying my right to the Afterlife."

Silence fell upon them, broken by a choked sob that echoed beyond the entrance to the Pharaoh's quarters. The Pharaoh lost his serious demeanor upon recognizing the broken voice. "Mana," he whispered. He slowly propped himself up as the young apprentice peered at him from beyond the arch. "Please enter."

Mana did as told, slightly shrinking from the intimidating gaze Priest Seto threw at her; but seeing her childhood friend—weakened and bedridden—strengthened her resolve. "Prince!" she cried, tears streaming down her face as she rushed to her king and embraced him, mindful of his injuries. Burying her face on her king's chest, she succumbed to her grief.

The Pharaoh held on to her, occasionally whispering words of comfort and tightening his hold reassuringly. "Hush now, Mana," he whispered as the apprentice faced him. Gently cupping her face in both hands, he thumbed away the tear-tracks that stained her cheeks. "Death hasn't claimed me yet," he added in a lighter tone.

Mana sniffled and took her king's hands in her own trembling ones. "But when it does—" She whimpered and tightened her grip "—y-you'll suffer for eternity!"

The Pharaoh bit his lip and embraced her as she succumbed to her grief once more. Save for her sobbing, the room was silent. He could tell that his two remaining priests were just as distressed as she was, but they kept their silence.

It was a fact that no-one wanted to acknowledge.

As long as the demon was locked in the confines of the Puzzle, The Pharaoh's soul would be bound to the Item. His death would shatter the Puzzle just as much as the shattering of the Puzzle would be his demise. Whichever happened first, both would lead to the same fate,

Upon his death, his soul—instead of entering the Afterlife—would be imprisoned with the demon inside the Millennium Puzzle.

He had sentenced himself to a fate worse than death.

 _I'm sorry_ , the Pharaoh thought, his eyes closed and struggling to hold back tears. He tightened his grip on Mana's trembling form. _But there is no other way_. Isis had a hand covering her mouth while Seto had his head bowed, eyes obscured by the shadow of his chestnut bangs. "Have you done what I asked of you?" he queried, earning him everyone's attention.

A heavy silence hovered over before Seto finally answered, "It shall be carried out, my king."

Mana had frozen upon hearing those words. "No…" she whimpered as she turned to her Pharaoh. "Please reconsider, Prince!"

The Pharaoh avoided her gaze. "It is for the best, Mana. I do not wish to discuss it anymore."

But Mana wasn't having any of it…

"Haven't you suffered enough?!" Mana yelled, startling the Priests. "Not only do you accept such a terrible fate, but you're also going to _deface_ yourself?!" She buried her face on his chest once more. "Please stop punishing yourself, Prince! Please!"

"Mana!" Isis gasped, pulling the bawling apprentice away from the unresponsive king. "Please control yourself." She turned to her Pharaoh, "My Pharaoh, I apologize on Mana's behalf. Please grant us permission to leave you in peace."

"Permission granted," the Pharaoh stated.

"No!" Mana cried out as she tried to fight Isis' hold on her. She turned to her king, heartbroken to find that he was not looking at her. "Prince!"

No response…

Severely hurt by the cold treatment, Mana rushed out of the room, ignoring Isis who pursued her.

With the ladies gone, the Pharaoh released a shaky breath. He resisted the urge to wrap his arms around himself. Seeing Mana distraught made his heart heavy and ache.

"She has a point, your highness."

The Pharaoh sighed and shook his head. "I never thought I'd see the day you would approve of anything she says," he added in an exasperated tone.

"Erasing your name is a great dishono—"

"—that would keep the demon from causing destruction!" the Pharaoh interjected. He sighed. "It needs to be done, to ensure that the demon shall not escape," he explained. He leaned back, the action a little too fast, bringing about a surge of pain from his bruised side. A hand was immediately held up to stop his trusted priest from coming to his aid, the other clutching the affected area. Taking slow and steady breaths, he forced himself to relax as he waited for the pain to end—or, at least, become bearable.

Unable to take the sight, "Fetch the healers!" Seto barked at the guards by the chamber entrance before hastily approaching the king's bedside, taking hold of the cloth and a clay jar atop it. Using the cloth, he scooped a generous amount of the healing salve from the jar.

The Pharaoh, seeing his Priest's intentions, removed the hand covering his side. A palm-sized bruise marred the area, standing out with its deep purple hue. Surrounding it were smaller marks of purple and angry streaks of red.

Seeing it made the Priest's heart heavy with disappointment—disappointment in himself. He had taken an oath to protect his king, keeping him safe from harm. Adding weight to his already burdened heart was the fact that his allegiance wasn't just due to the oath or the fact that his liege was Kemet's hope and future.

It was something he shared with the other Priests. It was the only thing he had in common with Mahado and his annoying apprentice…

Friendship…

He had known the Pharaoh since he was a prince, even going so far as sharing a (not so) healthy rivalry with him. A brilliant and mischievous boy, his liege had caused plenty of headaches. Together with Mana, they're the very definition of trouble. He was arrogant, self-righteous, naïve, reckless, and (slightly) spoiled. Not much better than the pampered brats Seto had met when he was still a priest-in-training. But what struck the priest was the fact that he always had everyone's best interests at heart, to the point that he'd neglect himself. Fiercely standing up for the people he loved and what he believed was right, he saw people as people, his court as friends, and treated them as such. Selfish and unjust would never be among the many words that could describe his former-prince.

During his reign, his Pharaoh was akin to a strict parent who only wanted what's best for all his children. Despite his youth, he possessed admirable intelligence which he used to propel Kemet to prosperity. But his reign was not without conflicts. His desire for fairness and equality, coupled with his reckless insistence had earned him a number of enemies among the wealthy, but his arrogance and tenacity ensured their begrudging acceptance and quelled their rage to a quiet simmer. It made Seto and the rest of Kemet's people admire him even more. Hence, many obeyed him, had sworn to protect him, out of loyalty and respect more than duty.

And he, Priest Seto—the strongest of the Pharaoh's servants—failed to do so.

"Stay strong, my king," he whispered, an uncharacteristic note of concern in his voice when the Pharaoh flinched as the cool salve touched his skin. "Your people need you."

The Pharaoh leaned back, eyes absently staring at the ceiling. Such destruction. All brought about by one thief's rage. Bakura's revelation had impaled his mind with guilt.

Left behind to witness ninety-nine souls of friends and family sacrificed for the Items, he was scarred and twisted by such brutality. He was driven by the need for retribution; to punish those who were truly responsible…

The Royal Family.

The Thief couldn't be blamed for his rage. He had every right to be. If only he didn't endanger the innocent. If only he took his anger out on him alone. He would have obliged him.

His people certainly didn't need a ruler whose legacy was marred by the blood of the innocent. He needed to be punished, to atone for all those souls who suffered because of the Items.

He felt the Priest freeze in his ministrations. Looking at him, he found those blue eyes directly on his own. The pupils were dilated in horror.

It seemed some of his thoughts escaped through his lips.

"My King," Seto whispered, aghast at his Pharaoh's words. "You are not to blame for what that thief accuses you of!" he growled, Bakura's title spoken as though he just spat at filth's feet. "You are innocent just as your father was. If there is anyone to blame, it should be Akhenaden!" Anger simmered in his heart at the mention of his so-called _father_.

"His intentions were pure despite the means," the Pharaoh murmured.

Seto bit his lip. They had learned from Mahado that the Items were forged fifteen summers ago. A war had been brewing. Invaders had breached their kingdom, looted everything in their path until only the Capital was left. Had it not been for the power of the Items, Kemet would've crumbled that day.

But what's a foreign invasion compared to a demon's wrath? Fifteen years of prosperity only to end in fire and, for their Pharaoh, a fate much worse than death? The Items couldn't have been the only option that day!

Just like the Sealing Ritual couldn't be their only salvation now…

A low grunt broke Seto's train of thought. The Pharaoh was slightly hunched over, face pinched and a hand pressed to his bruised side. Seto's fists clenched uselessly at his side. _Where are those damned healers?!_

Once the pain receded, "But that is no excuse for what was done to the people of Kul Elna," the Pharaoh mused. "Innocent lives should never be sacrificed for the kingdom, for that is the duty of the Pharaoh."

Seto froze as the Pharaoh turned to face him. Those fiery eyes were weary from the heavy burden he was carrying. "Seto. I have a favour to ask of you," he said.

The priest dipped his head. "Anything, my king."

For a second, a smile graced the king's face. But perhaps, it was just Seto's imagination. "I want you to be my heir."

Blue eyes widened. Seto nearly fell back in shock, eyes never leaving his king's face as though waiting for him to say that it was another one of his poor attempts at humour.

But the Pharaoh remained serious and slightly irritated at Seto's hesitation. He closed his eyes and sighed, turning towards the balcony. "We are cousins, are we not? And I have no heir of my own." He glanced at the priest. "I do not see why it is such a problem."

"B-but… I… You'll be fulfilling Akhenaden's wish!" The words Seto spoke seemed to be stuck on his tongue. "Our battle against him will be in vain!"

"Calm yourself, Seto," the Pharaoh practically groaned with a roll of his eyes. "It's not like I'm asking you to strike me down right now." He sobered up and turned away again, hands tightening on the sheets pooled at his hips. "I have no son and I don't think I have the time for that with everything that's happened."

"But—"

"Promise me, Seto," the Pharaoh interjected, snapping his gaze up at the tall priest. "Promise me you will take over when I can no longer keep going."

Those red eyes pierced his own blue orbs. Seto couldn't turn away. He couldn't stop his mouth from falling agape when his king's hand took hold of his right fist. It was so small compared to his. "Do this for me. Not as your Pharaoh. But as your friend and cousin."

He remained silent as his mind struggled to comprehend such a responsibility. To his relief, the Pharaoh didn't push him. He was patiently waiting, those red eyes looking at him with understanding. Seto remembered that he had his jaw open and closed it with a snap. He didn't have much of a choice. His Pharaoh hardly took 'no' for an answer. "I promise," he finally said, his limp hand finally returning the Pharaoh's grip.

Beyond the room, just a hairsbreadth from the Pharaoh's line of sight, Mana placed a fist to her mouth, stemming the whimpers that could give her away but not the tears that flowed from her eyes.

* * *

 _A/N: Hello, peeps! Miss me? Been a while since I published a fic. To those who read Sealed Fate, I promised something big. Well. Here it is. A redux. While it's still an AU/AE fic regarding the aftermath of Atem's sealing, this one's going to be different. And, it's (probably) going to be illustrated by yours truly. Illustrated version will be up shortly in my shiny new AO3 account (link's on my profile). What better way to practice my drawing and hone my writing skills than by making an illustrated fic, no?_

 **Notes:**  
*Kush: Nubia

*Heterochromatic: adjective form of Heterochromia, a case wherein one has more than one eye color.

*King's son of Kush (Hieroglyphic: _Sa-nisut-n-Kush_ ): Refers to the Viceroy of Kush. Kush was a province/colony of Ancient Egypt during the New Kingdom. It was ruled by a Viceroy who answered directly to the Pharaoh

*Waset: Ancient Egyptian for Thebes, the Capital of the New Kingdom.

*Hour (Hieroglyphic: _wnwt)_ and other measurements of time _–_ Egyptian Equivalent values of time: 24 hours (12 daytime, 12 nighttime) = 1 day. 30 days = 1 month. 12 months (divided into three seasons (Akhet, Peret, Shemu), each with four months) = 1 year.

*Shenti: the skirt-thing Ancient Egyptians wore.

 **Next time on For the Greater Good:  
** _The guards were all gathered around the main entrance, majority with their backs against the doors. Those who didn't were armed and ready to fight to the death. Another strong crash. The gold-plated wood was starting to fall apart._

 _One soldier—the captain of the guards—took notice of the four. "Your grace! You must flee! The doors cannot hold out much longer!"_

 _A third crash and the doors finally fell._

｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡  
 _ **More reviews = faster updates  
Date Posted: May23,2015 (GMT + 8:00)  
**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimers are located in the first chapter. **_

_**CHAPTER-SPECIFIC WARNINGS/ALERTS:**_ Implied violence and perverted intentions. Implied torture.

* * *

 **Chapter 2  
The Attack**

The dark form of Nut* slowly dissipated as Ra's light graced the sky. The warm glow passed over broken walls, homes, and numerous people sleeping near the rubble. Some stirred. Some rose. Some tried to block out the light trying to rouse them.

Dozens of soldiers patrolled the walls, focused on the gaping hole that was once the main gates, where the demon forced his way in.

All was well, until two fell from their post at the top of the broken wall with arrows sticking out of their immobile forms.

The soldiers were yet to process what happened, were yet to converge on their fallen comrades, when hundreds upon hundreds of arrows rained upon them. Cries of men rose with Ra. Some out of fear and some hungry for the blood of Kemet*.

…

In the royal chambers, the Pharaoh slept restlessly. Throughout the night, whimpers escaped him, hands clenched into fists, body tossing and turning. Seto could do nothing but watch and remain by his side. He never woke when roused. Only temporary reprieved from the nightmares. Seto had his own demons to deal with. His thoughts were a mess, still struggling to grasp the promise he had made to his weakened king. He was unworthy of the throne. He could never be half as good as his Pharaoh. He could never bring the peace and prosperity his king did. The blood of a traitor ran in his veins, after all.

So deep was he in his thoughts that he failed to notice dawn creep into the room… and a frantic Isis who burst in with Mana at her heels.

"Priest Seto!" she gasped, snapping the priest out of his reverie.

The tone of her voice. The sheer dread and fear it was laced with, Seto quickly turned to her in a flurry of white linen.

"The Tauk has shown me a vision," she said quickly, hand creeping up to her neck where the Item rested. "Invaders are attacking the city!" Her words were confirmed by a couple of shaken guards, followed by some screams bubbling from beyond the palace.

First the demon. Now this?

"What should we do, your grace?" one of the guards asked.

The Pharaoh had woken, yet was still weak. _Not in any condition to lead_ , Seto realized. Crossing lines wasn't a habit of his but, for his king, he was willing to do so. "Your grace," He began with a step forward and a bow. "You need not fret. Allow me to take charge"

For the second time, the Pharaoh smiled and relinquished control to his priest.

Seto nodded reassuringly before taking an authoritative stance. "You!" he addressed the guards. "Stand your ground for as long as you can! Ensure they cannot breech the palace!" Once the two guards were out of sight, "Isis, you and Mana must flee with the Pharaoh."

"But—" A loud crash, like stone rammed against wood, cut her off. It shook the entire chamber. Seto took the king in his arms, deaf to the latter's surprised yelp and weak protests, and exited the room. The rest of the occupants were quick to follow, forced out into the open corridor above the throne room.

The guards were all gathered around the main entrance, majority with their backs against the doors. The rest were armed and ready to fight to the death. Another strong crash. The gold-plated wood was starting to fall apart.

One soldier—the captain of the guards—took notice of the four. "Your grace! You must flee! The doors cannot hold out much longer!"

A third crash and the doors finally fell.

Dozens of invaders poured in from the gaping hole. The throne room became a battlefield for a few seconds before turning into a ruthless bloodbath. Seto wasted no time and took off, Isis and Mana right behind him.

Their escape wasn't unnoticed.

"They're following us!" Mana screeched upon seeing the enemy ascending the steps towards their hall.

They turned a corner. Seto swore under his breath. "We must head to the lower chambers and find a way out of the palace!" He came to a sudden stop, eyes wide in disbelief.

A dead end lay before them. The savage battle-cry of the enemy was getting louder and louder.

"We have them!"

More than a dozen soldiers had them cornered. Victorious smirks were upon their lips. They approached, carrying an air that promised pain and misery. Seto growled, intuitively holding his disgruntled king close. He didn't have enough Ba to summon his Ka, or any other Ka for that matter. The helpless look on Isis' face revealed a similar plight. But Mana stood strong. Staff held out with both hands, she muttered an incantation.

A vivid pink aura encompassed her form. Four large headdresses dropped from above. The men cried out in alarm as one veiled them while another sheltered their summoner and her fellows.

There was a pop and a gush of smoke. The Magical Hats vanished from view.

…

While the invaders ravaged the city and the palace, the Pharaoh's private garden remained untouched. The walls stood tall, protecting the serene oasis from the horror surrounding it.

The only interruption was a large headdress that appeared out of thin air. It sat underneath a plum tree amidst fragrant, flowering bushes. Fading like smoke blown by the wind, four individuals were revealed, a disoriented one being carried and a young magician who nearly collapsed from the sheer exhaustion of casting the spell.

"Mana!" Isis gasped as she took hold of her. "You shouldn't have overexerted yourself like that," she chastised.

"Good job, though," Seto acknowledged, eyes scanning the area. The Pharaoh's private gardens. If memory served correctly, there was a hidden exit somewhere—one his Pharaoh cherished when he was younger. He had to find it, ensure that Isis and Mana escaped with the Pharaoh before he could act. He didn't have much Ba to summon a Ka but he still had enough to use the little magic he knew. Mahado would've been more useful in this situation, as much as he hated to admit. "Mana, do you remember where the hidden exit is?"

Mana lit up in remembrance. "Oh yeah! I forgot about that. Um…" She thought for a moment before pointing to the other side. "It's over there. Behind those bushes."

Seto growled. They had to cross an area where, judging from the voices and approaching footsteps, they'd be in the enemy's line of sight.

It's a risk. But what choice did they have?

"Come on and be quiet," Seto hissed. He led the way, careful yet quick in his gait. But before they could make it to the other side,

"Nice place!"

"Careful! We're not supposed to destroy anything that isn't in our way."

"Like we need to. _Tch_. Some Capital. Didn't take much to kill off their defense."

"Well, they were attacked recently. But whatever. It's good for us. We get the spoils without much trouble."

A handful of soldiers emerged from that dreaded entryway and into an oasis devoid of human life, from what they could see. Seto and his companions had hidden behind a wall, well within hearing range.

"The master wants the Pharaoh alive. The rest are for us to decide."

"Nice. Can't wait to find those two ladies."

A chorus of lewd laughs. It sent shivers up Mana and Isis' spines.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

A shadow loomed over them, cast by three bulky soldiers. Seto mentally cursed himself. He had forgotten about the discrete corridor beside their hiding place. Such a careless mistake. It's going to cost them dearly.

Two reached out to grab them while the other called out to their companions on the other side of the wall. Mana had exhausted herself. Isis didn't know much offensive spells. The ones she did know cost too much Ba to cast. Seto was still combing through his mind for something. Anything.

Before the enemy could lay a hand on any of the priests, a force blew them away. A dark portal opened on the solid wall that once hid and trapped the four.

It was a Dimension Hole*

But who cast it? Not Seto. The look on Mana's and Isis' faces implied it wasn't them either. _That must mean…_ Seto's eyes widened in realization.

"Go! Now!"

Whether his Pharaoh pushed him or he stumbled when the king struggled out of his grasp, the priest didn't know. But he fell back and landed on… _sand?_

He shot up as though burned, eyes darting around. They were at the edge of a small oasis, surrounded by the desert.

"Seto!" Isis looked as lost as he was. "Where's the Pharaoh?"

The priest momentarily forgot how to breathe. Isis' eyes were beginning to water in response. Mana was found a small distance away, silent and staring ahead in horror.

The Millennium Puzzle glinted in her hands. The Priests feared for the worst. But following her gaze made them realize the extent of their troubles.

The broken entrance to the fallen Capital had been shrunk by the distance. Smoke rose from within the walls. Cries and screams reached them despite the immense span. Isis couldn't bear it. She fell to her knees. Both hands flew to cover her mouth.

Seto stood in shock. He wanted to believe that the Pharaoh was just in the oasis behind them. But he knew he wouldn't be there.

All of them knew where he'd be.

…

It was dark. Water rhythmically dropped from the ceiling, some dribbling down the chains that bit into small wrists while the rest ended up in a pool by tiny feet.

Even though he'd been captured, the Pharaoh's thoughts weren't about his well-being.

 _Seto, Mana, and Isis._

The entire time, he was helpless. Pathetic. Seto had to carry him. Mana used too much of her power to save them. But when they were about to be taken, the Pharaoh had forced himself to take action. Using the last ounce of his strength, he cast a spell—one he picked up from Mahado—that sent them as far away from the Capital as possible.

He honestly thought that death would claim him; that he had used the last of his Ba; but the fact that he woke up sore and dangling from the ceiling of this dark dungeon proved otherwise.

Hopefully, the others weren't in the same boat as he was.

"What do you mean you haven't found it?!"

Voices echoed just beyond the door to the Pharaoh's cell. Incoherent pleading drowned by a thundering shout. He strained to hear, chains suspending him rattling slightly.

"We searched everywhere, my lord. There's no sign of—."

 _SMACK!_ A dull thud against the door. More pleading.

"Rather than beating this ignorant buffoon, why not just _ask_ the Pharaoh?"

The door was flung open. Light flooded into the dark chamber from behind human silhouettes. Footsteps clacked against the stone floor. A couple of soldiers lit the torches that lined the sides, bathing the room in a warm orange glow. It chased away the darkness, enabling the Pharaoh to see just who his captors were.

Of the two people who stood before his eyes, only one face was familiar.

The Viceroy of Kush.

He was surprised. Shocked. But some part of him expected it. The man was one of those against the policies he'd implemented during his reign. He's also the most vocal about it. From the law giving servants and peasants a voice to the destruction of the slave trade, the man often led the protests. He was also the last to back down.

The Pharaoh hadn't been kind to his resistance either. He had (reluctantly) punished him, sentenced him to months of hard labour. Threw him in the dungeons. Had him tortured (by illusions) in a bid to make him understand the horror of what he was fighting for.

But he couldn't strip him of his power or his life. The former due to his immense influence on Kush. It could lead to a rebellion. The Kushites shared his hatred of the Royal Family, according to his Court.

Even though his betrayal wasn't so surprising, accepting it was a different matter.

"Y-you," the Pharaoh gasped.

The viceroy chuckled, a hand on his jutted hip. He sized the half-naked king up. "Yes. Me. Such an amazing observation," he purred. The Pharaoh was about to speak. In a fit of sudden madness, the viceroy punched him on the side of the face before the words could get out.

Chains rattling, a pained yelp from the king, and an exasperated sigh from the pale, unfamiliar face were the only things audible afterwards.

"You've no idea how I've longed to do that," the viceroy admitted. He was panting. Pupils were dilated. A grin stretched across his face. It was a frightening visage to anyone. He grabbed the king by the neck and raised his fist, veins and knuckles vividly taut. "You've NO IDEA!"

His fist propelled forward. The fallen king closed his eyes.

But there was no impact.

"Must you always lose control, King of Pain?" came a fluid-smooth voice, the owner gripping the wrist of the offending fist. "Do you always have to be so… _barbaric?"_

Preventing the blow just inches from the Pharaoh's face.

It was the unfamiliar face. Everyone but the still-defiant Pharaoh and this foreigner held their breaths. The Viceroy was a man famed for his extreme cruelty, especially when restrained from doing what he wanted. This strange man with even stranger eyes was about to find out the hard way.

The Viceroy growled and pulled away. But the ones expecting violence against the foreigner were surprised for he simply snorted and chuckled. "Oh, Dartz," he said in mock-flamboyance. "This isn't even half as bad as what I usually do."

The man named Dartz narrowed his dual-coloured eyes in irritation. "I thought you want to know where the Seven Treasures were."

The Pharaoh's eyes widened. The grin returned on the Viceroy's face. "Oh right," the latter recalled.

Stifling a yelp as he was painfully grabbed by the hair, forced to tilt his head up, the Pharaoh glared angrily at those maniacal lavender eyes.

"I'm sure you know the answer, little _Pharaoh,"_ the title was spat like rotten filth. "And given your new _position…"_ He yanked hard, delighted that the Pharaoh couldn't stop his pained cry this time around. _"…_ denying me isn't in your best interests."

The Pharaoh's _spitting_ response hit the viceroy's face, earning him a brutal backhand to the right cheek.

Watching an angry king of pain swipe at the spittle, Dartz clicked his tongue. With an amused smirk on his lips, he shook his head. "That was very _unpharaoh-ly_ of you, Your Highness," he commented. "Were you not taught manners?"

A growl. "No matter what you do," the Pharaoh snarled. "I will _never_ tell you!" Teeth clenched. Form tensed. He was prepared for the blow his defiance surely earned.

Imagine his surprise when the viceroy replied with _crazed laughter_! The sound chilled him to the bone.

The sight was no less frightening. Wild eyes. His grin practically ripping his face apart…

"It's exactly as I dreamed it'd be."

The Pharaoh barely heard it over the man's laboured breaths. He involuntary shut his eyes when he raised a hand. It snapped open in shock when he felt those fingers _caress_ his face. Specifically, on the bruising cheek he was struck a few moments prior.

Sharp tongue darted out of the viceroy's mouth. He eyed the Pharaoh hungrily, relishing in the fear expertly concealed by that unyielding face. "You. Resisting after I've taken over." Dry lips were licked. "Before slowly, very slowly, breaking…" He leaned forward, mouth just hovering over a delicate ear. A smirk formed on his lips when he felt the slight tremors on the king's skin. "…when you _experience_ how I became known as the King of Pain."

Widened red eyes finally took notice of his surroundings, of the shadowed dungeon and the wide array of _tools_ no doubt the king of pain knew best.

He swallowed despite himself.

* * *

A/N: Yes. I'm still a torture-loving wierdo with a love for cliffies. This chapter's shortened. But no, The chopped bits won't be here due to it being too graphic and past what's allowed on this site (from what I recently learned). It will be posted in my AO3 account soon. Can't say when exactly. The AO3 version won't just be illustrated, it'll have some scenes that this site won't allow.

 **Notes:  
** Kemet \- Ancient Egypt

Nut – Egyptian goddess of the sky. Portrayed as a woman whose nude, star-spangled body arched over the earth. (wikipedia)

Dimension Hole – Spell Card/Normal/Select 1 monster on your side of the field and remove it from play until your next Standby Phase. While the monster is removed from play, the Monster Card Zone of the selected monster cannot be used. (yugiohwikia)

 **Next time on** **For the Greater Good** **:  
** Dartz merely shook his head, the smirk still in place. "I just want to show you an effective way to get our dear Pharaoh to talk."

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 _ **More reviews = faster updates**_  
 **Date Posted:** **June03,2015** **(GMT + 8)**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimers are located in the first chapter. **_

_**CHAPTER-SPECIFIC WARNINGS/ALERTS:**_ _the usual. Swearing. A positively evil chapter.  
_

* * *

 **Chapter 3  
** **One Blow to the Heart**

Ra rose without missing a beat, illuminating the land, creeping into the Pharaoh's bedchamber, and casting his bright light onto the face of Kemet's king.

Lavender eyes snapped open.

With a smirk on his face, the viceroy of Kush—now the new Pharaoh of Kemet—rose; ready, if not ecstatic, to begin the fourth day of his reign.

He didn't bother shielding his eyes as he approached the open balcony, basking in the morning light and breathing in the fresh air. He gazed at the city beneath and beyond him.

Under his command, the land was not razed. The buildings still stood tall. The temples were hardly touched. Even the destruction wrought by the demon was slowly being undone.

After all, what kind of king he'd be if his kingdom was in shambles? Definitely not a powerful one.

A thought crossed his mind. A sombre reminder. It wiped the gleeful smirk from his face and replaced it with a scowl.

 _The Items._

That stubborn _ex-_ Pharaoh still refused to reveal their whereabouts even after his many _attempts_ at changing his mind. He's resilient, the viceroy had to admit. For three days and nights, he kept his resolve. Sure, his body would break and surrender, but his will never faltered. Even his extensive knowledge of persuasion couldn't punch through the midget's defiance.

But persistence usually paid off. Everyone had their breaking point. He just had to keep at it. Time was on his side.

With that in mind, the new Pharaoh decided to begin this day the same way he did for the past three days.

…

Bruised. Bloody. Incredibly weak. The Pharaoh could barely lift his head. It's the only movable part of his naked body that remained unbound, its weight now akin to a boulder. His arms, legs, and even his torso were shackled and/or weighed down onto this spike-lined chair he'd been forced to sit on. The agony was persistent, keeping him from resting. Sharp metal points dug into his flesh. Thankfully, his tormentor had put out the fire that burned the seat red hot before he left for the night.

"Good morning, my dear _ex-Pharaoh!_ "

 _Speak of which…_

Footsteps clicked against the stone floor. The bound Pharaoh groaned at his tormentor's return. It signalled the start of another day. The beginning of a new ordeal.

But the purpose remained the same.

 _The Items' whereabouts._

He stayed motionless, head still bowed even when he felt the viceroy's presence beside him. Even when that hand pressed his bound arm on the spiked armrest. He winced. His body tensed. But no sound escaped him.

" _Tch._ Stubborn ass."

No matter what, he'd never say. Even after his body was shredded by the barbed whip, wounds burned closed by hot iron on the first day; limbs pulled painfully and dislocated by the rack before being debased by the viceroy and his men on the second; locked in the spike cage contoured to his form while being roasted alive before finally perched on this nightmare throne on the third.

Now, it's the fourth. He was weak and disoriented. Senses yet to be sharpened by the merciless bucket of cold seawater often used to wake him, or bring him back from the recesses of his mind. He idly wondered what technique would be used this time around.

His jaw was grabbed, pulled up, and manhandled open. A glob of _something_ was shoved into his mouth before the delivering hand slapped over his lips.

He instinctively struggled to spit it out.

"You damn bastard! You should be grateful that I even bother feeding you!" the viceroy shouted, burying his free hand on the captive's slightly drooped mane.

The Pharaoh finally acknowledged the man with a glare. His stomach rumbled at the thought food. He hadn't eaten since he was captured. But his pride refused to let him accept nourishment from the enemy.

That, and the meal was _vile!_

Smirking, "I even went through the trouble of preparing _batarekh_ * for you," the viceroy taunted, eyes on the small plate by the prisoner's feet where a small pile of orange caviar sat.

The Pharaoh groaned as the viceroy stood, hands still gripping him, forcing his head to tilt upwards. His eyes were starting to water. To his horror, the man pinched his nose closed.

"You're in no position to be picky." The viceroy tightened his grip. "Now." He viciously shook the former king's head. "SWALLOW!"

If he could hold on to his breath until death claimed him, he would. But his body refused to be denied of air. He swallowed the disgusting meal and breathed generously once the obstinate hand relented. When the viceroy delivered the second serving, however…

The King of Pain howled in agony. The Pharaoh bit his hand! _Hard!_ "You nasty _son of a bitch!"_ He shoved the tri-coloured head into the stubbed headrest, forcing the prisoner to release his now-throbbing fingers. Cradling his swelling digits, he growled at the king who had no problem hiding his insubordination.

The little thing's so stubborn, it's no longer funny!

"So the king of pain knows nothing about _real_ pain…. How disappointing."

The door had been opened, unnoticed by the two occupants. The viceroy seethed upon seeing his foreign companion standing by the frame, silhouetted by the light outside. "Don't test my patience!" he snarled.

Dartz merely shook his head, a smirk on his face. "I just want to show you an effective way to get our dear Pharaoh to talk. But if you're not interested—"

"Cut the fucking dramatics and just get to the point!"

Genuinely taken aback by the viceroy's outburst, Dartz let it slide. But his irritation showed in how he merely reached behind him.

It was someone bound, gagged, and garbed in rags. Someone whose messy brown hair, bruised body, and terrified olive-green eyes shattered the Pharaoh's heart, doing what the viceroy failed to do in just a few seconds. Tears falling from his fearful eyes, strength surging through his battered body, the Pharaoh couldn't stop himself from pulling at his bonds and crying out,

"MANA!"

Giving the speechless viceroy a triumphant look, Dartz dragged the girl by the arm before throwing her at the panicking Pharaoh's feet.

Regaining control of himself, the Pharaoh glared at Dartz. "What did you do to her?!"

That damnable smirk graced the pale face. "Whatever's necessary to break you." The Pharaoh growled in response. Like a prideful peacock, Dartz turned his back on the bound king and glanced at the still speechless viceroy. "Physical pain isn't the only kind of pain in this world. One blow to the heart is more painful than a thousand to the body. Remember that, _King of Pain_."

Despite the lecturing tone reminiscent of a teacher calling the attention of a misbehaving student, the viceroy couldn't help but be impressed. Slowly clapping his hands, "Well done." A smirk on his lips, "Guess there's more to you that meets the eye. I have an idea where this is going but…" He takes out his dagger, momentarily glancing at the blade's sheen, twirling it nimbly in one hand before handing it, hilt first, to Dartz. "Why don't you _impress_ me further?"

The Pharaoh's eyes darted from the knife in Dartz's hand to Mana lying on the ground. Those terrified eyes were trying to tell him something. "No." Heart racing, he futilely tried to get up as Dartz grabbed the girl. "You let her go! NOW!"

"That depends on your answer, Pharaoh," Dartz responded, standing before the king with Mana in a chokehold. The sharp tip of the knife was held to her throat. "Do I need to remind you of the question?"

The Pharaoh opened and closed his mouth, lost for words. Both heart and mind were in a frightened frenzy, numbing the pain but preventing him from thinking straight.

 _The Items._

 _Mana's life for the Items._

 _A million lives for Mana's_

 _I can't do this…_

Mana's muffled cry cut him off. Dartz had dragged the knife down her arm! "STOP!" he cried out.

Breaking. He was slowly breaking. His heart threatened to leap out of his chest and flee!

"We don't have all day," the foreigner said darkly, blood staining his garments while his strange eyes glinted in a glare. It made him look menacing. Like a vicious snake poised to strike. Even the viceroy never looked that _cold-blooded._ He replaced the knife against Mana's neck. "The Items or the next one will be across her throat!"

His heart's wild struggle echoed in his ears. Sweat slicked his skin despite the gripping cold that descended in the room. Mana's eyes were on him. Frightened. Pleading.

 _He couldn't take it anymore!_

"I DON'T KNOW!" He sobbed, voice agonizingly torn while tears slipped from his eyes. "I-I don't know!" A gasp, "I-I had it hidden away. In a place I do not know!" He mustered the strength to look at his captors, broken and defeated. "Please," he begged. "Let her go. Do what you want with me. Just leave her out of this!"

The foreigner narrowed his eyes.

Enraged, the viceroy charged towards his captive, fist pulled back. Dartz, once again, foiled him. "For fuck's sake—"

"He's telling the truth," he explained, releasing the viceroy's wrist. "You're just wasting your strength."

Despite that, the viceroy landed a blow to the weeping Pharaoh's face. Shrugging off the look Dartz was giving him. "I wanted to." Spoken like a petulant child, arms folded to match.

Rolling his eyes, Dartz turned to the Pharaoh, the weakened girl still in his grip. Once he earned the king's gaze, he dragged the knife across his hostage's neck. All the while, maintaining eye-contact.

The Pharaoh let loose the anguished cry Mana failed to voice. She fell to the ground, eyes open and dead. Her body began to glow a sick green before her form dissolved.

The lifeless form of a raven-haired servant girl in her place.

Though now aware of the illusion, the damage had been done. The Pharaoh wept quietly, ignoring his captors' condescending gazes.

The illusion took the viceroy by surprise, but he wasn't disappointed. On the contrary, it elated him with an epiphany. "I think I know just who has the information we need."

Dartz gave him a knowing look before heading for the exit. "And I have an idea on how to catch them." He stopped, glanced back at the limp Pharaoh. "The Pharaoh hasn't outlived his use as of yet."

* * *

 _A/N: I'm aware that some aren't pleased with my depiction of Atem's reaction to torture. Yes. I agree that Atem's a strong character. One who isn't easily broken. That's why I rewrote Sealed Fate. In this fic's case, I have taken advantage of Atem's obvious weakness—endangering his loved ones. In the anime, Atem breaks whenever his loved ones are harmed. In Battle City Finals where Jounouchi nearly died, that tore Atem apart. But the most significant would be when Yugi's soul was taken. It's the reason why, among the villains, the one I believe was closest to beating Atem, character-wise, would be Dartz. Dartz got inside his head. Used Yugi against him (literally) and nicked at his personal insecurities. It was effective. He made Atem fall… albeit temporarily._

 **Notes:  
** ***Batarekh** –  Egyptian caviar. According to the (fans') translation of the new Japanese character guidebook that came out along with a lot of stuff regarding the new movie coming in 2016 (which is set after the original manga ended. Yay!), it is Atem's least favorite food. His favorite is "Ta'amiya" which is Egyptian falafel made of white fava beans. His birthday is on "3rd Harvesting month, 19th" of the Egyptian Calendar (Thanks, Takahashi. Very helpful. -_-) which some have speculated to be July 26 in the Gregorian Calendar. Blood Type: "A". Age: "16". Height: "153cm"… and his profile isn't the only one out there. XD

 **Next time on For the Greater Good:  
** _"You should be thankful that you're not a slave," one Kushite soldier sneered._

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 _ **More reviews = faster updates**_  
 **Date Posted:** **July 18, 2015** **(GMT + 8)**


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